Thrice Have I Walked This Way
by x THiS DRUG x
Summary: The once fierce female Hitokiri of the Bakumatsu has now become a shadow of her former self, her once boldthirsty nature now subsided when she suddenly encounters someone of her past she wished she had not... Original character First fiction! R&R please!


"I'm not afraid of a woman!"  
The three men towered over her, each smirking viciously. One wielded a curved axe on a long chain, one a katana, and the other quickly drew out a pistol from his shirt.   
"This is a fighter! Ha!"  
Her dark grey eyes glinted spitefully at their mockings of her. She was looked up to him, her chin length bangs hiding most of her dainty, pale face with dark eyes. Her dress was a black gi with deep grey hakama pants.  
"Are those your final words?"  
The three large men were sent into a fit of hysterical laughter.  
Her voice was low, nearly a whisper as one of her feet slid back and she crouched, assuming the batojutsu formation.  
"I shall engrave them on your tombstone..." her eyes flashed almost black and the mens laughter died somewhat. The smallest (though he was still considerably larger than she) one of them drew back a little, his eyes growing wide.  
""Whut?" the man in the front, the largest, looked to him and asked.  
"That's the stance..." whispered the one "the stance of the... hitokiri... Kuroda.."  
"There aren't any true hitokiris left!" roared the largest, growling somewhat "She's just a pathetic woman! Are you going to let a woman scare you, Tao?"  
Tao shook his head violently.  
"Now, now, theres no need for violence and name calling.." a soft and strangely cheerful, yet commanding voice echoed. All four of the bodies on the small road turned their heads to see what looked like another woman coming towards them... except the _she_ turned actually out to be a _he_. He was indeed very short, her height, with long, thick red hair, bright violet eyes, and a cross-shaped scar adorning his right cheek. His wooden sandals clicked softly on the dirt path as he walked to them, a sword at his hip, and gi and hakama ruffling somewhat in the breeze.  
"Who're you!" demanded the biggest, taking a step forward and aiming his pistol at the newcomer.  
"Just a concerned citizen, that I am."  
He stepped to the side of the woman and looked bravely up at the three who also towered heads over him. The woman looked to him, still in her low stance, but a curious and puzzled look now showered over her face.  
"Concerned citizens?" the slightly shorter one to his left replied "We don't have use for citizens here. This is official Hasegawa gang business, you little punk!"

"Yeah, so step off, unless you'd like to die today!" the biggest one again rumbled, loading his pistol with a click  
The stranger with the long red hair laid a hand on his sword cautiously  
"I do not mean to stir dissention, but I do not believe it is not right for you to harm a woman. If you so wish to fight—" his voice had become slightly deeper, but not much, and more serious. He drew his katana slowly, but something was wrong with it... the blade was on the wrong side "—I will give you a fight."  
The three men began laughing again  
"You, fight?"  
"Is that a Sakabato?"

"We'll take you both down!"  
The three men began to close in and the red-haired fighter looked to the woman quickly "Please step back, ma'am." He sank down a little into a fighting stance. She stood there beside him still in her stance. There was no way that she would let him do this. She moved to lunge forward, but before she could, the stranger had already sprung at the three men.  
It happened in an instant. A chain clanked loudly, a sword was broken, and there was a loud gunfire. The womans eyes widened and she stood from her stance, lowering her blade. The dirt had been stirred, and when it died down, the three gang members lay on the ground, and the man with the red hair was crouching, holding his shoulder. He stood slowly and slid his blade back into its sheath and removed his hand from his shoulder. His reddish-purple gi was slowly darkening with crimson and he looked back to her with a wide grin  
"I'm sorry about those men Miss, that I am. I wished I had've come sooner." His grin faded somewhat and he turned, walking to her and looking at her as if...she looked familiar "Are you alright?" he asked slowly.  
She nodded. The wind began to dance through their hair, making her high and long black ponytail whip around.  
"That's good to hear then." The strangers voice was back to that sweet and innocent tone and he smiled "You might want to get going, those men will wake up sometime soon."  
She didn't move but stood there staring at him, her katana lowered.  
He blinked a few times at her awkwardly.   
"Kenshin...?" she softly asked, her voice losing most of its malice that it possessed towards the three men before he showed up.   
Almost as if a light went on in his head his eyes widened considerably. He spoke cautiously, almost afraid "Ku..mik...o?"

She nodded, her lip quivering softly. She turned away quickly "What has brought you back to Kyoto, Kenshin?"

He approached her further, his hand falling lightly on her shoulder "Kumiko-dono..."

She looked quickly back to him, her grey eyes almost a light blue and burning with tears.  
"I thought you died." She whispered to him. Kenshin's brow furrowed somewhat  
"Kumiko..." he paused and she looked down "...Miko..." her head was quickly drawn up again and he smiled faintly "Please do not cry."

Her lips were pursed together tightly and Kenshins hands both fell onto her shoulders  
"I know we are both not the cold people that we were, Kumiko-dono...and I'm sorry...I'm sorry for hurting you—" he broke off suddenly, his hands dropping to his sides limply "I am paying for all my deeds, that I am."

Her eyes never left his as she sheathed her katana and her head lowered, only then did she break their gaze "My heart will never forgive you, Kenshin, nor will I forget..."  
She began to walk away her head lowered somewhat still  
"Miko..." he began but stopped, his hand clamping over his shoulder tightly, gazing off after her.   
He had been waiting for that opportunity to tell her he was sorry, no, he was more than sorry... sorry for breaking her heart...

That night it had been raining. He had never seen it rain so hard since he was young. The whole of everything was being washed away with the downpour, so much so that it was extremely difficult to see through the veil of the falling rain. But he was safe inside of a make-shift shelter he had made to last for at least a moth, and it was lasting...

He was wrapped in a large blanket, and in his arms he held a small, shivering figure of a woman. She looked up to him with a gentle smile that barely bent the corners of her mouth, her light grey eyes shining in the dying fire that still gleamed. He let somewhat of a smile claim his own lips, and there was an understanding... and understanding between soul to soul... and heart to heart.

It had merely been a month ago that he had received the finish to the scar on his cheek... and scared, hesitant, he found himself in love again. In love with the woman that now sit wrapped in the same blanket as he in his arms. He held her tighter, his chin lying on her shoulder, his golden eyes closing halfway... He loved her. There was no doubt in his mind about that... But what if... What if he were to...  
He did want to even finish the thought or mental sentence as he gazed out at the downpour.

This feeling... so calm...and serene... he hadn't experienced anything like this...since...

Kenshin shook his head somewhat; his eyes were slightly glazed with the memory of that night. The night he knew that he loved Kumiko. That night several years ago during the rain when they merely held each other in the steady storm.  
Almost as if he had forgotten how in that nostalgic moment, he began to tread forward again, following in her footsteps, his eyes raised and looking ahead but not looking, really...

The only thing he saw was her face; her beautiful face that smiled up at him that night, filled with love, and compassion...


End file.
